Guardian
by Dark Unicorn Lurking
Summary: Upon discovering the wellspring of his power, Rikash Salmalín has an odd meeting with an old friend.  Oneshot


**Title:** Guardian

**Rating: **K

**Plotline:** Upon discovering the wellspring of his power, Rikash Salmalín has an odd meeting with an old friend.

**A/N**: This is a random one-shot. It based on the comment of one of my reviewers for the story "Mage's Tower."

I own nothing.

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Rikash Salmalín sat with his eyes closed, the wellspring of color that was his Gift filling his inner gaze. It was ebony in color, flecked with an odd gold. At the age of fifteen, he had finally achieved exactly what his father had been instructing him to do. He was inside his magic, inside the powerful blaze that marked him as a mage and he was enthralled.

His forehead creased, black eyebrows snapping together over the black eyes, curious as to what was happening. The black and gold fire was fading, a dismal black abyss replacing it. If he squinted, the contours of shapes—the landscape—became apparent, highlighted by a faint silver glow.

One long finger came up to tap his nose, a habit he had inherited from his father. "The Realm of the Dead," He finally murmured, looking around with renewed curiosity. His voice sounded strange, the second the words fell from his lips, they were silenced, leaving him with the feeling of being utterly and completely alone. A sudden flash of silver left his eyes dazzled and a fiery black and gold barrier came up to shield him.

"Now why are you doing that," A soft voice inquired lazily, contempt trickling though the vocals. Ri spun, his magic pooling into the palms of his hands, prepared for battle.

A gleaming Stormwing sat on the faint outline of a branch, his green eyes amused. He tilted his head and Ri's gaze was drawn to the bones braided into the ends of each braided. The well-muscled chest and the silver feathers looked odd to the mortal's gaze and didn't understand until he realized that there was no blood, filth or dried fluids covering the creature.

Something in his mind clicked and his jaw dropped. "You're Rikash Moonsword aren't you?" Ri asked, remembering how he had made his mother tell him about the courageous and sarcastic Stormwing who was his namesake when he had been younger.

"Bright little Mudcrawler aren't you?" Rikash Moonsword said in response, his green eyes showing a cross between amusement and frustration.

After an awkward moment, the Stormwing continued. "So you're the one the Wildmage named after me…." It was a soft whisper and Ri barely caught the swiftly silenced words.

In answer, Ri lifted his black hair and fumbled for something that was tied to the back of his neck. The Stormwing lord looked at him curiously, his metal talons clicking on the invisible branch. Finally, the mortal drew out a long silver feather and held it out towards the dead "immortal."

Rikash left his branch, landing and hopping towards the youth. "Very powerful." He mused, looking up into the black eyes with his bright green. "And very dangerous." He sighed, resigning himself with a shuffle of his feathers. "Tell me, Rikash, do you know the properties of a Stormwing feather?"

The youth looked startled then reached up to tap his nose. "When driven into the flesh of a mortal, it turns said mortal into a Stormwing. Incredibly useful as arrow fletching to kill mages, and—"

The Stormwing flicked out a wing, silencing Ri. "But do you know what happens when it is taken from the body of dead Stormwing? What happens when that Stormwing places a magical spell of protection on that feather?"

Ri stumbled, his gaze becoming more and more curious by the second. "It makes that Stormwing the guardian of the mortal who carries that feather. Having the same name as your guardian increases the bond between the mortal and immortal."

For once, the young mage looked completely dumbstruck. He sat down, folding his legs and slipping into the mindstate he used in meditation. "Who knows about this guardian thing?" He asked, hiding his shock.

"Daine has a guess and Numair Salmalín has no idea—nor can you tell him. I am your guardian, your "guiding spirit" as some would say. It is a rare thing this bond, seeing as it has only happened twice in the past millennia." The Stormwing lord ruffled the steel feathers, hopping closer to stare into the eyes of the young mage.

"This is for no one to know, none to find out. If it is revealed, dire consequences are imminent…and I'm not being dramatic. Coming into you power, finding that wellspring has opened the connection.

"If you need me, simply slice open a tiny piece of flesh and let a _single_ drop of blood fall on the feather. And when all is said and done, you will have the choice when faced with death. Rely on your Gift or rely on the feather. Remain human and die or be turned into a Stormwing and live forever cursed to feel no emotion. Do not be tempted to try it "for the fun of it". If you do, I will make your life a living hell."

The Stormwing grinned, his razor-sharp teeth clacking together evilly. A flick of a silver wing and the Stormwing had vanished, leaving him in an oddly familiar fiery black and gold light.


End file.
